


First, Do No Harm

by interztellar, literalprincess



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Doctor/Patient, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Patient Dean Winchester, Therapist Castiel, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-17
Updated: 2015-11-16
Packaged: 2018-05-02 01:52:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5229395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interztellar/pseuds/interztellar, https://archiveofourown.org/users/literalprincess/pseuds/literalprincess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester has given up. Castiel Novak comes to his rescue and helps him learn to love himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First, Do No Harm

**Author's Note:**

> Hey!! This is my first ever co-written fic, and I'm honestly so excited to be writing with Izzy!! I love their writing and they're a great person! Thanks to Izzy for putting up with me being insecure about my writing, we hope you enjoy this!

He wanted to die.  
He simultaneously wanted to _live_.  
Not like, exist, or just be alive. He actually wanted to live, love, laugh. He wanted to go on adventures with someone he loved.  
He had no one.  
Not even his brother, after the accident.  
He had lost everyone and everything.  
He had lost himself.  
Until one day, a man with shaggy, almost-black hair and bright blue eyes walked into his life.  
He found himself in this man. He found life, love, laughter. Hope.  
His name was Dean Winchester.  
His heart belonged to his Guardian Angel.  
Castiel.  
That one word would change everything.

\----

He had sworn to himself that his thirtieth birthday would be the last day of his life. He would end it on that day. 

No more breathing. 

No more thinking. 

No more living. 

He had intended to keep this promise to himself. He spent his last day just as he spent the rest of his days. Ass on his couch, remote in one hand, beer in his other. Around 11:30 that evening, he decided it was his time. Finally, he was in control of something in his own life. Finally. He was calmer than he had expected to be. He was ready to die, he had been ready for quite some time. 

He loaded his gun. 

He took the safety off. 

He pressed it to his temple, took a deep breath, and squeezed the trigger. 

He slowly slid his eyes open to find that, besides the ringing in his ears, nothing had changed. He started to tear up as he realized what had happened. He was still alive. He had shot a blank. 

He reluctantly put the safety back on his gun, sliding it under his pillow where it belonged. He cried himself to sleep that night. 

He wasn't sure what saved him. He couldn't tell if God had saved him, or maybe it was just a coincidence. 

Whatever it was, Dean was taking it as a sign. This is not the end. He could do this. 

He slept well that night, and the next morning, he made an appointment with the therapist Sam had recommended before he went into a coma, because of a car accident. He was the only one who survived. But he wasn't surviving, not really. He was a vegetable. Machines were breathing for him, keeping him "alive." Dean could do this. He could, for his brother. He would get help.

"Hello, Doctor Novak's office, Becky speaking. How can I help you?" A nasally voice, way too loud for Dean's taste, said into the phone. 

"Uh, hi..." Dean started slowly, scratching the back of his head. "I was hoping you could tell me how you can help me. I have no idea what I'm doing, I've never done this before." he chuckled nervously, and the voice that came through the other end of the phone was much softer now. 

"Right. Well, were you needing an appointment to see Doctor Novak?" Becky said. 

"Uh, yeah. Yes. He's a psychiatrist, right?" Dean laughed softly, his palms sweaty. "Whatever's open, as soon as possible." he said, his voice on the edge of sounding desperate. 

"Yes, sir. He's a psychiatrist. It looks like the earliest we can get you in is this evening, at 5. Does that work for you?" She said. Dean heard her typing away as she spoke.

"Yes, thank you. Thank you so much." Dean said softly, "My name is Dean Winchester." He spoke, before hanging up the phone. 

For the first time in more days than he wanted to admit, Dean took a shower. He took his time, until all the hot water was gone. He let the water pound his back, his eyes slipping shut. He washed his hair, he used his favorite body wash. He wrapped a towel around his waist for no particular reason, walking to his room to get dressed. He tried desperately not to look in the mirror, tried not to acknowledge his thinning frame. He wasn't exactly trying to lose weight, it just happened. He rarely got out of bed long enough to eat anything. 

Four thirty rolled around, and Dean was pulling out of his driveway. His hands were shaky and sweaty as he drove to Dr. Novak's office. He parked his car and walked inside, rubbing his palms together. "Uh, hello," he said to the receptionist, chewing on his lip. "I'm here to see Dr. Novak?" he said, and it was more of a question than anything. 

"Your name?" Becky said, smiling up at Dean.

"Winchester. Dean Winchester." Dean mumbled.

"Well, Mr. Winchester, Dr. Novak will see you now. Go through those doors right there." She said, pointing toward a set of double doors.

Dean smiled and mumbled something remotely similar to a 'thank you' as he walked through the doors. The person he saw before him had brilliantly blue eyes, dark, tousled hair, and a warm smile. Dean knew how cliche it was to describe blue eyes as looking like the ocean, but honestly, he couldn't think of a better way to describe them. He truly believed he could get lost in those eyes, and just when he started to, the man looked away. "Right, um," Dean began, his face flushing. "I'm here to see Dr. Novak?" he said softly. 

Dean decided that the man's voice definitely did not match his appearance. The man let out a breathy laugh, gesturing for Dean to sit down on the sofa opposite him. "That would be me, Mr. Winchester." He said, standing up and walking around to the other side of his desk. "So, what seems to be the problem?" he spoke smoothly, with a soft gentleness that Dean could feel himself growing all too fond of already. 

"Well," Dean started softly, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. "I kind of feel weird pouring all that out right now. Is it okay if we wait to go into detail?" he asked nervously, his voice wavering. 

"Of course, Dean. We can take this at your pace. Let's start with an overview, hm? In general, what's bothering you?" Dr. Novak said, folding his hands in his lap. Dean swallowed stiffly as he watched every movement Dr. Novak made. He was already infatuated with everything about him. What got him the most, though, were those eyes. Dean could've sworn that they looked straight into his soul. 

Dean finally cleared his throat to begin talking, his eyes watering. "Well, I..." he trailed off. "I sort of was like, having some really bad thoughts? I dunno. I almost killed myself a couple of days ago. I was scared of how ready I was to die. But obviously I failed, and..." Dean let out a sigh, wiping a tear that had fallen down his cheek. "I feel like maybe it was a sign, of sorts. My brother's in the hospital, basically dead. I feel like maybe I should keep living for him. Maybe one day he'll wake up, right? I wouldn't want him to wake up to a dead brother." He all but rambled, his face beet red. "Shit.." he mumbled. "That kind of felt good." He admitted quietly, staring at the ground.

"Your brother's in the hospital?" Dr. Novak asked, tilting his head. "Would you like to talk about him? How he got there, maybe?" He spoke as he jotted some words down on a notepad, before looking up at Dean once more. 

Dean met his eyes for no longer than a second, before directing his gaze back at the ground. "Yeah, sure," he said softly. "Forgive me if I cry, though. I swear I don't do that often." He lied, digging his nails into his palms out of habit. He relaxed a little, sitting back on the small couch with his legs crossed. He stared at his lap as he began speaking. "His name's Sam. He's the one who told me I should do this a while back. He said a friend of his came to see you, and that you were awesome, so." He cleared his throat. "Right. Back to Sammy. He's four years younger than me. He was in law school, got into Stanford. Smart little shit." He chuckled for a moment, sighing softly. "He got into an accident about a year ago. He's a vegetable. I stopped visiting him about three months ago. I just can't bear to see him that way. And if you knew him, you'd know what I mean. He never shut up. I love the kid to death, but, man. He was just...full of energy. Full of life." Dean sniffled, hastily wiping a few of his tears. He reached up and took the tissue box that Dr. Novak was handing him. Their fingers brushed for a moment, but Dean shrugged it off. 

"Mhm." Dr. Novak wrote a little more on his notepad. "On a scale from one to ten," he started, "Ten being the best you've ever felt, one being the absolute worst, how do you feel today?" He asked, looking up at him. 

For the first time in the last ten minutes, Dean looked up into Dr. Novak's eyes for more than a split second. "Three." He mumbled quietly. 

"Alright. Now, you said something about a suicide attempt?" Dr. Novak asked, a concerned look on his face. "You're not still feeling that way, are you?"

"No, definitely not. Like I said, I gotta keep doin' this, even if it is just for Sam. I'll be honest, I really don't care if I live. But the thought of Sammy waking up to a dead brother is devastating. I couldn't make him go through that. If he ever wakes up, he'll wake up to a dead mother, a dead father, and if I off myself because of my own selfishness... He'll wake up to a dead brother, too." Dean sniffled, taking another tissue. "So, no. I don't really want to live, but I have to. For Sam."

"For Sam." Dr. Novak smiled softly, nodding. "That's great, Dean. Really. You're in better shape than a lot of people I've seen in here." He said softly. "Now, I usually don't do this, but I think you should come in twice a week. Tuesdays and Fridays?" Dr. Novak asked.

Dean felt his heart skip a beat in his chest, but he nodded. Something about this man just made him happy, almost. He seemed to radiate light and positivity. "Yeah, Dr. Novak. That works." he said sheepishly, his hands clammy and shaky.

"Great. So, would you like to talk about anything else? We still have thirty minutes this session." Dr. Novak said softly, walking back around to the other side of his desk to sit in his chair. "And please, Dean, call me Castiel." he smiled, jotting something else down on his notepad.

Dean nodded and swallowed.. "Right..." He said softly. "I could talk about my mom, maybe? My dad, too." He said softly, crossing his ankles as he leaned back, finally starting to become more relaxed in this environment. 

"Yes, of course. That'd be great." Castiel said, scribbling some words down. Dean watched his hands move, chewing on his bottom lip. 

"My mom was the best, man. I love her so much. She used to take Sam and I on trips to the park down the road, and it seems small but it meant everything to Sam and I. She was a wonderful woman, I was lucky to have her in my life at all." Dean wiped a couple of tears. "My dad was kind of a different story. He would leave us for weeks at a time to go on trips with his buddies. And when he came home, sometimes I'd wish he would just leave again. He was never sober. My mom was always so supportive of me and Sam, but we never did anything right in John's eyes. He took it a little easier on Sammy, I think, but the guy hardly ever said anything nice to me." Dean sighed softly. "I don't know how you feel about gays or whatever, but, my mom was the first person I ever came out to as bisexual. We kept it from my dad for as long as we could, but one day he came home drunk and caught me and my boyfriend holding hands. I had a black eye for two weeks." He said, looking up at Castiel. 

"I can assure you, Dean, I have no right to judge your sexual preferences. Are you out to anyone but your mother?" Castiel asked, writing quickly on his notepad before looking back up to meet Dean's eyes.

Dean shook his head. "Besides my mom and dad, you're the only one who knows. I guess technically you're the only one now, since my parents are dead." He laughed, wiping his eyes. "But I'm really not sure anymore. I think I might be straight. I want to be. I wish I was." He sniffled. He could've sworn he saw Castiel's face drop. 

"Dean, the first step to feeling better in this mess of depression is accepting yourself and loving yourself as much as you can. So if it makes you feel better to not label yourself, don't do it. If you think you're bisexual, embrace it. Don't try to change things about yourself that aren't bad." Castiel said softly, smiling at him. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, Dean. Technically, I'm not supposed to talk about myself. But I think it might make you more comfortable to know that I'm not straight, either. And nothing that you say in here will ever be repeated by me." He said. 

There was a long silence before Dean spoke up. "Thank you, Castiel." he said finally, smiling up at him. 

"Of course, Dean. Our time today is almost up, you know." He said softly. "It seems to have passed us by relatively quickly, don't you think?" He said softly, standing up a the same time as Dean. He held his hand out for a shake, and Dean took his hand. Admittedly, he may have held on a little too tightly for a little too long, but Castiel didn't seem to mind. 

Dean smiled and thanked him again. "So, I'll see you this time Friday?" He asked softly.

Castiel's face flushed. "What? Oh! Yes, of course. This Friday." He smiled, running a hand through his messy hair. "Take care of yourself, Dean. I wrote my cell number on the back of this card," He said, handing him a business card. "I only have my phone on silent during office hours, so if if you find yourself needing to talk after hours, feel free to call me." He said. Dean could've sworn his hand was shaking. 

"Yeah. Thanks again, Cas." Dean hummed, the nickname rolling off his tongue without another thought.

Castiel just smiled and nodded, leading Dean out of his office with a smile. "Hey," he said softly. "Why don't you go visit your brother before our next session?" he suggested softly. "I really believe it could help you. Don't go if you think you aren't ready, but for the record, I think you are." He smiled warmly, waving goodbye as he watched Dean get into his car. 

Dean drove back home, lucky to have not crashed his own car. He couldn't get his mind off of what Castiel had said about Sam. What if he was wrong? What if he _wasn't_ ready? He walked into his bedroom, picking up a photo of Sam a couple of weeks before the crash. He smiled softly and ran his thumb over his little brother's face, sighing. If he wasn't ready now, he never would be. It had been three months since he saw Sam, and six months since the crash. There wasn't any use in waiting any longer. 

He got into his car, taking a deep breath before starting it. He fished Castiel's business card out of his pocket.

To: Castiel Novak  
_hey cas. it's dean winchester...i'm on my way to go see sam now. idk if this is inappropriate, but i just wanted you to know_

A reply came mere seconds later. 

From: Castiel Novak  
_That's great, Dean. Let me know how it goes._

Dean smiled and slipped his phone back into his pocket, putting the car into drive and pulling out of the garage. He drove well over the speed limit to get to the hospital, paying no attention to his parking job as he got out of the car, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. He walked through the doors, laying his eyes on a pretty redhead. He walked up to her desk, chewing on his bottom lip. Her name tag read 'Charlie' in bold black letters. "Hey," he started softly. "I'm Sam Winchester's brother, I'd really like to know what room he's in." He said softly. 

The nurse, presumably named Charlie, smiled and nodded. "Of course, Dean. It's been a while since you've been in here, hasn't it? Everything alright?" She asked, tilting her head slightly. 

"Yeah, it's been a hard few months. Had to sort myself out, you know." Dean sighed. He didn't ask how she knew his name, she had probably worked here for years. 

"Well, I'm glad to see you visiting him. He's in room 832, right down this hall. It'll be on your left." Charlie smiled.

"Thanks," Dean muttered, before racing off down the hall. He turned into the room, seeing his brother hooked up to various machines and reasonably skinnier than the last time he'd seen him. "Oh, Sammy..." he muttered, walking over to his bed and grabbing his hand. He rubbed his thumb over his knuckles, staring at his sunk-in face. "Come on, Sammy. Give me a miracle, just...wake up." He said, tears rolling down his cheeks. 

A few seconds later, he felt Sam's hand move. Then, he heard him start to choke. All the remembered after that point was yelling for help, and a bunch of nurses running in. He had to go sit out in the hall. 

Charlie walked up to him, sitting down next to him. "That choking was good, you know. That's an amazing sign. He's been steadily improving over the last few weeks, we knew this was coming. It means he's breathing on his own, Dean. He doesn't need a machine to do it for him anymore. It sounds like everything's a little calmer in there now, if you want to go see him. Don't press him to talk, he hasn't used his voice or any of his muscles in over six months. Give him time, just talk to him. He'll come around, it'll come back to him soon."

Dean smiled and wrapped his arms around her. "Thank you. Seriously." He smiled at her. He stood up and walked into his brother's room, tearing up again as he saw Sam's eyes flicker toward him, and then widen. He opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. He beckoned Dean over with a wave of his hand, and Dean all but ran over to him. He sobbed softly as he wrapped him in a hug, petting his hair, which had also grown substantially. He pulled back with a smile and tucked some of it behind his ear. "You seriously need a haircut, dude." he laughed, wiping away a tear. 

Sam beamed at him, rolling his eyes. He spoke for the first time, croaking out a soft "Jerk," before laying back in bed. "Water?" He rasped, holding his throat. Dean nodded and ran down the hall to a vending machine, grabbing him a bottle of water. He opened it for him, handing it to him. Dean was reluctant to let go, since Sam's grip was weak. Rightfully so, apparently, because Sam almost dropped the bottle as he raised it to his lips. Dean made quick work of grabbing it and helping him, but not doing the work for him. He knew that would only frustrate the both of them. 

Sam smiled and thanked him, laying back in bed. "Where are mom and dad?" He whispered, frowning. When Dean didn't answer, he didn't need to hear anything else. 

"I'm really sorry, Sam." Dean mumbled, patting his leg. 

"It's okay." Sam whispered. "How's your life been? How long have I been...out?" he asked. 

"A year, Sammy. Maybe a little longer." Dean sighed, rubbing his calf. "You didn't miss much, except you're really behind on The Wire now." Dean joked. "If you want the honest truth, Sam, things have been bad since you've been out. I almost, like..." He started to choke up a little. "I almost killed myself, Sammy. Had the gun to my head and everything. I pulled the trigger, man." he whispered, shaking his head. "I guess I shot a blank or somethin', cause I'm still here." He laughed bitterly. "I started goin' to that therapist you said was good. Novak." he smiled as the name left his mouth. "He's already helping, I can tell. He told me to come see you today. I'm real glad I did, Sam." he said, sighing. 

Sam stared at him, wide-eyed. "Wow, Dean. Are you...okay?" he asked, taking another drink of water. 

Dean nodded. "Much better now that I can talk to my kid brother." He smiled. 

From: Castiel Novak  
_How are things going at the hospital?_

To: Castiel Novak  
_great. he's awake. thanks for everything, cas_

From: Castiel Novak  
_That's what I'm here for, Dean. :)_

**Author's Note:**

> I (Macy) can be found on tumblr at honeydean.co.vu and on twitter at @whosmacy  
> Izzy can be found on tumblr at squishymish.co.vu
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
